


Allies and enemies

by Caleb475



Series: A new chapter [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-08-02
Packaged: 2020-01-20 20:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18532327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caleb475/pseuds/Caleb475
Summary: Overwatch begins it's war against the Omnics, pitting everything they have at the rogue machines that threaten the world. Time may tell who is the victor, yet time itself is unsure when complications rise up, and order turns to chaos.





	1. A new mission

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry about the really long hiatus everyone! I've been having to study non-stop for my coming exams, so I admit to (partially) neglecting this work. On the bright side, I have more ideas for more chapters, so that's a plus. Anyway, happy reading!  
> :)

Jack surveyed the empty, barren wasteland that was once a small town in Tromsø, the blackened ground covered by fresh, white snow. Mounds of snow concealed the ruins of buildings, the fires long smothered by the cold. The mission was simple, albeit quite rushed. Eliminate all omnics in the suspected area, get all the intel, and get out. The UN had promised the world immediate results when Overwatch was re-established, making slightly unreasonable promises of Overwatch's exaggerated strength, and now the world wanted those results. Along the small contingent of 600 men, ten tanks, and one recon team, Jack also had a force two hundred men strong, courtesy of the United Nations. He was told this was the first and last the he would be given reinforcements. No matter; he could accomplish greater feats with smaller armies. The XT-60 gently touched down, a slight jolt felt by Jack and Angela as the plane quickly decelerated. Right, it was just him and Angela who would lead the troops. The element of surprise was on their side, and besides, they only needed a small contingent to take the omnics by surprise and overrun the outpost. Rumors about the outpost belonging to Talon were ignored, but Jack kept the idea in his head, nibbling at the edges of his mind. It wasn't wholly ludicrous, just somewhat unbelievable. A blast of cool air welcomed Jack as he stepped off the ramp, leaving the warm insides of the jet. He spotted the five transport crafts landing silently, the last one wobbling slightly, tilting to one side, and finally crashing into the ground, the screeching of metal against ground supplemented with the muffled screams and explosions coming from within the craft. Jack cursed as he ran towards the overturned craft, his legs already slightly numbed by the cruel, cold snow. When Jack reached the downed craft, he spotted a single hole, burnt through the front of the craft, sparks flying out.  
“Sniper.”  
Jack turned to his troops, seeing two more men collapsing to the ground, their bodies dyeing the snow blood red.  
“Get down!”  
But the men were already down, their white camouflage saving them from another casualty. Then Jack spotted the obvious problem: the UN helmet his backup force wore. They were light blue, not easily spotted in the snow, but still slightly noticeable nonetheless. In fact, after a few seconds of consideration, Jack realised that his Overwatch troops had no casualties whatsoever. He motioned for the men to retreat to the safety of the transport craft, while his 600 men carried on with the operation. But it still didn't explain how this craft got shot down. A lucky shot? The glint of metal?  
“Damn.”  
Now Jack had lost his tanks, and he didn't even have the recon team; the monitoring system showing no life signs emanating from the craft. Shaking his head, he motioned the troops on, he and Angela leading them on through the frozen wasteland. 

After some improvised scouting lessons, Jack had a small recon team of 7. He gave them orders to push ahead as his men lagged behind at a slower pace. One hour in the cruel empire of ice later, Jack's walkie-talkie crackled.  
“Gold leader, we've spotted a small outpost, five or six guns surrounding the perimeter. Should we engage?”  
“No, gold one. Have your men move as close as possible, and then dig in.”  
“Roger that, gold leader. Sending intel, over.”  
Jack's holoscreen blinked as blurred pictures of the outpost, as well as charts of the lands appeared onto the device. He ordered his men to move forward. The soldiers crushed the snow with their boots, eager to warm their barrels.

The outpost looked pathetic, the five turrets guarding the perimeter easily taken care of. Yet no alarms, bells or shrieks of death. Only the silence and the rushing sound of the cold wind.  
Jack had ordered his men to have a half-hour break in their trenches while he reviewed the documents seized from the miserable, rusted, abandoned hut. According to the intel gathered, the omnic headquarters was around two kilometres away; to march the ridiculously long distance would be suicidal. Jack mulled over the options as Angela peered at the papers through her winter goggles. Vapour vented out of Jack's visor as he ran his hand through his unkempt hair.  
“Doctor, what would you advise? You've been unusually quiet.”  
“Well...we could march them there, or…we could call in the transports again. That would be the most practical idea.”  
“But that would mean giving up the element of surprise.”  
“Not necessarily. There will be a blizzard in the area in around an hour. Our ships can land as close as they can during the blizzard, and the men would be able to cover them up by the time it stops. It's not perfect, but it just might work.”  
“Hmm.”  
Jack pored over the papers for the tenth time. He had no intel on the headquarters whatsoever; the dimensions were unknown, the defenses were a mystery, and he was woefully unprepared. This plan may be sending his man to the slaughter, and yet…  
“Angela, our jets have radar and thermal imaging, right?”  
“Yes.”  
“And they have invisibility?”  
“Yes.”  
“We...could go forward with your plan, but we would stay in the transports and send the XT-60 forward to map out the headquarters. Would that be feasible?”  
“If everything goes right, we could have comprehensive intel on the headquarters, as well as a potential paradrop, and we could even call in a limited aerial bombardment. But...if we fail, we would have no escort for the transports, and the option of a retreat would be off the table. It would mean a fight to the death.”  
“Then let them come. We'll overwhelm them with our numbers.”  
“And if they outnumber us?”  
“Then they will stand a fighting chance.”  
Without any further discussion, Jack called the transports over to their location, the autopilots gently easing the crafts onto the ground. Jack typed commands into the XT-60's computer, and took along a remote console for any further instructions. He squeezed it's way into the ship, both him and Angela watching as the now invisible ship disappeared into the sky, completely silent. The crafts jolted off the rough ground, the small windows showing the snowflakes that would soon mercilessly pelt the land in their billions. Jack settled into the padded cockpit seats, the gentle hum of the engines somehow calming his mind, sending him off to a short rest.  
The ship slammed onto the ground, the solid rubber wheels leaving tread marks on the soft snowy surface. Jack was immediately thrown forward from his sleep, then pulled back by the seat belt as the black snake decided to utilize Newton's third law with a cold vengeance. A quick check with the ship's systems and camera showed that both the ships and men were alright; just a bad landing. Jack's face was instantly slapped by the unfeeling snow, the cold piercing through his thermal suit as soon as the metal wall unfolded into a ramp. Nevertheless, he marched forward relentlessly, the men behind him pacing themselves. After fifteen minutes, Jack looked back at his tired men and instead decided to let them dig in and have a well-deserved rest; they had clearly earned it.  
After another hour, Jack received the intel from his XT-60, a treasure trove of information. It included 38 shots of the entire facility, thermal readings of the surface, possible ambush spots in the surroundings, a crude number of 400 omnics, as well as a notice that the two SPNGs and rocket launchers were ready for a bombardment. Jack instantly shared the precious intel with Angela, plotting his next move with his new wealth of information. His men were a mere 400 meters from the surprisingly small compound, and he still had the element of surprise on his side. It was, to Jack, the ultimate tactical miracle.  
“Angela, I've got a plan. You stay here with the men, and tell the UN backups to haul their useless asses back to hq.”  
Angela raised one eyebrow but nodded without hesitation; Jack was one strange but effective tactical leader and commander.  
Jack then strided over to the trenches, where 593 men were chatting and checking their guns, those who saw him immediately saluting. Jack called out to the men, his roaring voice blasting through the fierce blizzard.  
“Right, who's ready to go blast those metal motherfuckers back to the ground?”  
Hands instantly shot up, most of the men barely concealing their enthusiasm while the others were crying out for combat. Jack looked with pride at his eager forces as he picked 200 men for his plan. Jack and his men split up into three groups. Alpha would stay back to recover and provide reinforcement when needed, while Beta and Omega would silently flank the headquarters, crushing it from both sides. He ordered Angela to stay with Alpha group, where Beta and Omega would carry on with the mission. Jack led the Omega group, his trusted Lieutenant Thompson leading the other. The 200 soldiers left for the compound, splitting up as they neared the structure.  
The pictures garnered had shown only three chain-gun turrets, and two ballistic anti-air guns. Other than that, nothing else; not even a simple wall of fence. It seemed a little too easy…  
Jack shook his head clear of thoughts and checked his trusty pulse rifle for the seventh time. Sergeant Williams was reviewing the intel a few paces behind, scrutinising for any possible traps or concealed defenses. So far, he had found none. The slightly plump officer then swiped right, noticing instantly that the right flank had noticeably closer blind spots and ambush points, and quickly devised a crude strategy. Running up to Jack, Williams quickly explained his simple tactic in full.  
“Sir, after analysing the pictures, I have found an effective strategy.”  
“Go on.”  
“We can first have Lt Thompson's flank split up into half, one group distracting the enemy while the other thrusting in an unexpected direction. The enemy will most likely think that the attackers would only punch through the left side, and leave a very light guard for our flank. We can then use these blind spots and points on the pictures to stealthily sabotage the aa guns and eliminate any weak resistance. Then we can call for a small strike from above.”  
There was a pause as Jack thought about the plan, going through each possibility. It was a good plan in theory, using small tricks and deception, but how would it perform on the battlefield?  
“Alright Williams, we'll try your idea.”  
“Thank you Sir, I'll inform Beta now.”  
Jack gave a small grin behind his cold metal visor. To think that he had such talented men who could improvise on the fly! With them by his side, he could easily take on bases twice the size with half the men! Jack finally ordered his men to stop as they neared the compound, the group splitting up into four smaller groups, each positioned at an optimal point. Jack quickly pressed himself against a neglected brick wall, right next to Sergeant Williams.  
“Have you told Beta about the plan?”  
“Yes Sir. There will be three seconds of silence on their side once Lt Thompson feels that the distraction has done its job.”  
“Good.”  
Jack checked his rifle one last time and exhaled slowly, the dark night air concealing his troops.

Then, it started.


	2. A new alternative

The men of Omega group could hear the loud gunfire rattling into the night. The gunshots, albeit muffled, were still clearly audible as even louder gunfire and explosions rumbled the shook the ground.  
The omnics were firing.  
Then, the gunfire suddenly softened, and Jack saw Williams counting down from three. After two and five-sixths of a second, Williams nodded towards Jack. Jack steeled himself and tensed every muscle in his body. Then he roared out the command; a single word that sent he and the men rushing on the slopes into the headquarters.  
“CHARGE!”  
Jack was instantly swarmed by men surging forward in unison, the frontline chattering with the beautiful sound of assault rifles being fired. Jack saw the three chain-guns being taken out almost instantly, and one of the two anti-air guns being torn down by soldiers bashing the structure with their guns. Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Jack let loose a hail of helix rockets which burst violently, rupturing the metal skin of the doomed gun. Men fired at the exposed wires and delicate machinery, their shouts of joy doubled as Beta team joined them, the men merging into a force 200 soldiers strong. Jack pushed his way through the human river towards Lieutenant Thompson, the latter having a small, satisfied grin on his face.   
“I trust the plan has gone well?”  
“Yes Sir, no casualties whatsoever!”  
Jack seized Thompson's hand and shook it warmly as the men cheered. The only raised building on the blasted metal floor, other than the massive heaps of scrap metal, was a medium-sized building that had two reinforced carbon steel doors. A quick yank with a crowbar revealed a huge industrial lift that took up 90% of the interior, the buttons showing a total of five levels, including the ground floor that Jack was currently on. Beside the lift was a small ventilation shaft, roomy enough for just one man to squeeze inside. Jack ordered thirty men to take the lift down one floor and immediately come back up, then reporting what they had seen of the underground facility. As the lift descended quickly, the relaxed laughter and chatter of the men quickly became frenzied cries and shouts, the booming of gunfire and hurried shooting forcing their way into the ears of the soldiers above. When the blood-bathed lift came up, there were only five soldiers left, covered head to toe in blood and organs. Combat medics rushed to the stumbling victims, the warm sticky blood getting stuck on their coats as they hauled the shivering soldiers off the lift, the men instantly clearing a path for them. Jack followed the medics wordlessly, and looked at the five casualties as their wounds were treated. Two were already unconscious, one already had both his feet in the grave, but the last two were staring at the metal ground, breathless and wide-eyed. Jack made his way towards the two soldiers and squatted down, facing them.   
“Did you two see anything when you were down there? “  
One soldier shook his head, but the other opened his mouth instantly, although he had to inhale deeply and calm himself down before speaking.   
“Well...Sir, there were miniguns and grenades. Lots of them, like at least two miniguns and three grenade launchers. And I spotted more down in the lower levels. Sending anyone down there would be suicide!”  
Jack pressed his forehead, thinking of another plan to successfully infiltrate the omnic base. The poorly defended ground level was clearly a tactic, so he could use the same strategy with the omnics. Then again, they're most likely not going to budge or even step out from their bunker, so any tactic would be useless. Eventually, Jack decided he would have to infiltrate the base with a small, covert force. He turned to Lieutenant Thompson.  
“Lt, have the men form three lines around the lift. Keep ten men away to monitor any radio signals coming from within. Be prepared to lead a fighting retreat later.”  
“Yes sir.”  
Jack then walked over to a still stunned Sergeant Williams.  
“Sergeant, I need you to tell doctor Angela and the rest of the men to come over here. Bring the transports here as well.”  
“Y-Yes, Sir.”  
Jack then gestured to five soldiers to his left, the five being veterans of the famous assault guard.  
“You five, follow me now.”  
The men silently walked behind Jack, flipping the safeties of their submachines off as the green lenses of their night-vision goggles slowly brightened. Jack approached the small ventilation tunnel, and turned to the men.   
“I'll go in first. You five enter one at a time, each time 10 seconds after the last. Be as silent as you can. Got it?”  
“Yes sir!”  
“And whatever you do, do not damage anything or set off any alarms. This is to be a stealth mission.”  
“Yes sir!”  
“Good.”  
Jack crawled into the tunnel, using his elbows and knees to propel himself forward, into the darkness that was soon replaced by a reddish sight of Jack's surroundings. The men followed behind, their surroundings appearing to them in a hazy green color. The six men crawled further on, the slight smell of copper entering their noses.


	3. It hurts

Jack wiped the sweat off his brow as he and the men rested in the roomy space of a forgotten ventilation shaft. Expired cans of beer and snacks were tucked in one corner, beside some machinery and levers. Jack and his men sat down to rest, the cushioned walls providing a small bit of comfort. None of them spoke, water vapour silently trickling out of Jack's visor as the goggles of his men sent an eerie green glow around the room.   
After a short rest, they wordlessly decided to carry on crawling through the rusted vents, Jack once more taking the lead as the strong smell of copper wafted into their noses.   
After an eternity of cramped metal and the soft noise of plastic grinding against metal, Jack finally spotted rays of light shining from below. Keeping his pace, he ordered his men to halt, and gingerly climbed over the flimsy metal vent. Peering through the vent slits, Jack could see a few monitors placed on the far side of the room, but nothing else as the slits were slanted at a twenty degree angle. Jack silently slid the vent cover open, taking in a paranomic view of his surroundings. Craning his neck to the left, Jack saw a small puddle of red blood, the now evident source of the copper stench that had invaded their nostrils, to the far right of him were more screens and computers. A quick glance away from the vent told Jack that there was nothing further ahead; this was the only exit.   
A few minutes of improvised hand signalling and written words later, Jack and his men had a plan. They dropped down from the vent one by one, each of them somersaulting before hitting the ground so as to minimise both the noise and pain produced. They then quickly recovered and immediately stood on one knee, submachine guns out as Jack's rifle glowed a neon blue, the capacitors charged up. A quick survey showed no immediate threats, and the men quickly stood up, guns still primed. The small river of blood was retraced to a small metal door, the hinges surprisingly oiled despite the door's condition. A swift kick was enough to break apart the flimsy bolt, and four armoured men rushed in, the other two standing beside the frame. Jack instinctively froze as his men recoiled in disgust, his legs refusing to move toward the blood-soaked woman, her skin a pale brown. Red, viscous blood flowed down her outstretched arms, dripping in fat droplets onto the floor. Jack's eyes searched for the source of the flow, and immediately wished he hadn't. A single iron nail had been driven into each hand, the purple gloves providing no protection whatsoever as the strips of purple on the lady's head flickered. Three of the five soldiers stepped back, their grip on the rifles tightening. These were veterans of combat, Jack thought. They rushed into battle head-on, wills made of titanium, and yet they recoil at this?   
“Are there...do any of you have any first aid training?”  
Two soldiers nodded hesitantly, and shuffled forward, rifles lazily slung over their shoulders. One of them carefully placed two fingers against the jugular vein, while the other took out a miniature first aid kit from his leg pouch with shaking hands. A nod and a sigh of relief confirmed that she was still alive. Jack turned to the other three men.   
“Search the room. You two continue.”  
Better to give them orders to maintain discipline and order. The men seemed relieved as they split up, approaching the monitors and some dark grey file cabinets. Meanwhile, Jack walked over to the woman, desperately trying to pry his gaze off the two iron nails and the gruesome injuries they had inflicted on the unfortunate victim. The two soldiers were dressing her various wounds, making use of their complied supplies when she stirred. Jack froze in place, holding his breath in anticipation. Her eyelids fluttered, revealing purple irises, and the woman looked up into his eyes, face half covered with red blood.   
“H-Hi, Jack. W-What took you so long?”

“How…”  
The woman smirked and glanced at the two astounded soldiers.  
“Hey guys, would you mind taking these two fuckers out? Been bothering me these few days. Thanks.”  
The soldiers placed their hands on the iron nails, unsure of what to do.   
“Seriously? Just pull them out.”  
Jack sighed and fixed his gaze on this lady.  
“You sure about that? It'll hurt.”  
“Ugh, it's not gonna hurt that much.”  
“If you say so. Pull it out.”  
In one fluid action the men pulled out the nails from each hand. Her arms immediately slung to her side, blood dripping out of the holes as white shards fell to the floor. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she sucked in a breath and gritted her teeth. After an eternity, she exhaled slowly and opened her eyes, the purple irises wide open as tears ran down her cheeks.  
Her left hand flexed slowly and painfully, a wince with every slight movement. She was lucky; Although her right hand was decimated, the other nail only pierced the corner of her left hand, miraculously avoiding any nerves and bones.  
“So...what's your name?’  
“Sombra. Not that it matters anyway.”  
With a superhuman effort, Sombra stood up unsteadily, the two soldiers supporting her.   
“Need any help?”  
“No, not-”  
“Sir! There seems to be a problem with the monitor.”  
Jack sighed in frustration and stormed over to the corporal struggling with the black screens, jumbled symbols and letters streaming out in the dozens. Jack couldn't make heads or tails of it, and glared at the screen as if it were his mortal enemy.  
Out of the corner of his eye, Jack spotted Sombra limping towards the console, gently shoving aside her 'caretakers’. She sat down heavily into the metal chair beside the soldier, and batted his hand away. Before anyone could react, Sombra had already begun to slowly type at the screen, holding back cries of pain and tears with every blood-covered stroke and tap across the screen. Bright red drops of blood gathered on the tips of her pink synthetic fingernails, splattering onto the screen. After ten excruciating minutes, Sombra leaned back onto the chair, face paler as her left hand slid down the blood-smeared screen, the blood at the edges collecting in a pool at her feet. Jack stared at the screen, trying to make out what Sombra had just done, when a speaker rang out in the room.  
“Omnic shutdown completed. Lockdown reversal completed. Opening emergency exits.”  
Jack raised at an impressed brow at Sombra, the latter passed out from exhaustion and blood loss. Instantaneously, Jack heard gunfire and shouts from above as men charged into the opened exits, firing their rifles at the now dormant omnics, the metal splintering as shattered electronics littered the ground. Jack ordered the five men to gather the mob and make them gather back at their positions outside the complex, and then used his hidden radio transmitter to call Sergeant Williams.  
“Williams, get an emergency evac. We've got one civilian casualty.”  
“Yes,sir.”  
Jack then turned his attention to Sombra, who somehow had woken up, and was gripping her right arm tightly, shivering from the cold. As he walked over and draped his thick jacket over her, she pressed something into his hand.   
“The intel. You're welcome.”  
How did she know?  
Jack walked forward a few more paces and retrieved a small vial of anesthesia, the sterilised needle already put into place. Jack carefully eased Sombra's right arm out, slowly plunged the needle into her artery, and pressed the plunger down.   
“It'll hurt for a while, but the pain will deaden.”  
“Sombra nodded weakly, her facade of nonchalance crumbling as she slowly turned her head,scanning the room for the five soldiers.  
“I sent them to control the others, if that's what you're wondering.”  
“...thanks.”  
Thanks?  
“...I don't want to be seen like this. I... don't want others to perceive me as a weak person. Just...let me rest here? Please?”  
Jack looked down into Sombra's purple eyes, her worried expression clearly displayed across her weary face.  
“You're delirious. You need medical help.”  
But Jack didn't move. Sombra closed her eyes and whispered one last word as she fell into the world of nightmares and failed dreams.  
“Thanks.”


	4. One surgery, one jackpot

“So, who is she?”  
Angela asked the question as she hurriedly gathered her medical supplies, prepared to perform surgery on the jet that was screaming back to headquarters. The XT-60's engines were slightly louder in the cabin, which meant that on the outside, it was deafening to those on the ground.  
“Some civilian named Sombra.”  
Angela gave a brief nod as she continued to pull out bottles and syringes from her medical bag. She procured a syringe full of pale green liquid, inserted and pressed the plunger down within a second as her other hand reached for a scalpel. Jack crossed his legs and uncrossed his arms, opening his mouth to speak.  
“But, one question remains.”  
Angela's eyes looked up for a split second before looking back down at the scalpel that had plunged into the wounded hand, dark red blood seeping out slowly. She began to cut a cross on the hand, with the puncture wound in the middle. A curse formed in her mind as bright red blood spurted out, the droplets running down her arms.  
“Angela, the-”  
“Let's hope she doesn't go into hypovolemic shock. Artery was cut.”  
“Angela, I'm talking.”  
Angela shrugged an apology as she continued to cut, the blood staining her white coat red and pink. She picked up another syringe and injected its contents into the spurting wound. That would slow down the bleeding while she continued to work.  
“See, the omnics were so fiercely guarding her, and for what? We didn't find any information on…”  
Jack's voice as filtered out of Angela's mind as she scrutinized the puncture wound for foreign bodies. The medics on the ground had patched her superficial wounds up nicely, going so far as to place hypoallergenic tape over both sides of both wounds to prevent further infection. At least that made her job easier. Then amidst the blood that was obscuring her vision, Angela saw the glint of metal.  
“Metal scraps.”  
With a flick of her wrist, Angela donned her goggles and picked up a pair of tweezers, not flinching even as blood dotted her goggles. With extreme precision and efficiency, Angela carefully and quickly pulled out the shards of metal and fiberglass one by one. Within three minutes, a least a dozen of them lay on the floor, slick with blood. Angela injected one last dose of coagulant into the hand, and put two fresh sheets of hypoallergenic tape over both sides of the wound. One hand done; now the other.  
“And so, I came to the conclusion that this Sombra had to be carrying…”  
Angela's sharpened senses worked on the second hand, the blood already turning Angela's collar pink. Her gloves were covered in blood, her instruments coated in the viscous substance. Another five minutes passed, leaving Angela exhausted as thirty or so shards of metal, fiberglass and other foreign bodies littered the ground. She tugged both gloves off, the water tension from her sweat making the glove stick onto her hand. She unhooked the blood-soaked mask from her ears, and removed her goggles with trembling hands, wiping her wet forehead with her (mostly) clean hand. She could fix the infection and superficial injuries here, but she would need a dedicated operating theatre to perform the nerve regeneration process. And besides, she was no expert in nerve surgery. But, she did know one person who could help.  
“And thus, she would prove-”  
“Jack, would you mind getting the phone for me? I need to make an extremely important call to someone.”

Anton was there with three of his nurses when the jet landed onto the runway, the seemingly instantaneous stop bursting the rubber wheels. The steps lowered as Doctor Angela clambered out, holding one end of a stretcher. Jack grunted as his visor struck the interior of the jet, but continued to keep his side of the stretcher stable. The nurses swiftly strapped the stretcher to the top of the gurney and immediately took off, Anton close behind. Angela breathed a sigh of relief, wiping one bloody hand across her forehead before remembering its somewhat dirty condition, and cursed softly.  
“I'll be retiring, Jack. Thanks for your help.”  
And thus, Angela stumbled her way back to her suite, washing off the blood, sweat and grime with warm water, tossing her 'pristine’ coat into the laundry chute for the automated cleaning system to handle. She showered luxuriously in hot steaming water, and finally collapsed onto her bed, asleep with exhaustion the instant her head touched the soft pillow. Meanwhile, Jack contacted Lieutenant Thompson for progress on the omnic base raid. Thompson's face showed up on the monitor, his face slightly crested with brown oil.  
“Lieutenant, the troop's progress so far?”  
“We've found some valuable equipment and precious metals, but no further intel than that in the drive that civilian gave us.”  
Jack then remembered the thumbdrive. He pulled it out of his pocket, the purple casing half covered in red. He scraped the dried blood off, finding a small white skull inscribed there.  
“Right. Make sure they don't pocket anything. Escorts are on the way, two XT-60's. I want you to report to me ASAP the moment you step into the compound. Clear?”  
“Yes Sir.”  
Jack jammed the USB into the port, terminating the signal with a click. Inside the device were approximately fifty files, filled to the brim with both Omnic and Talon intel. However, around nine-tenths were encrypted with several passwords, as well as a biometric scan. Jack then forwarded the locked files to his computer science department, confident that they could crack the multiple fortified safeguards. Why else were they paid ten thousand dollars each per month? Jack resumed perusing the documents, impressed at the scrutiny and detail. Each file contained at least ten documents, two tactical maps, as well as the personnel involved in the operation. At least they wouldn't have to comb through Talon broadcasts for intel. Jack quickly sent one file up to the UN, stating that they would prepare for another raid. Better to ration them out first. Jack pushed himself away from the desk, tossing his shirt onto the chair and putting on a clean one. He grabbed an ice cold bottle of water and downed it in one gulp before heading out the door, taking the lift straight to the operating theatre.


	5. Chapter 5

Anton was quick. Either that, or Jack had spent three hours asleep on the chair. His eyes snapped open when the doors opened with a squeal, Anton stepping out with a wet forehead and a completely wet gown. He stood up with a groan, stretched and walked over to the tired surgeon.  
“Surgery successful, sir. Your patient has very unique hands. Had to use silver and gold to reconnect her enhanced nerves.”  
“Good work. Where is she headed?”  
“Room 301, level three.”  
“Thank you, Anton. Go get some rest.”  
Jack then took a trip to the bathroom to wash his face, and then proceeded to room 301, knocking gently on the door before scanning his thumb on the reader and entering. Inside the room was a white nightstand, white walls, a white floor, white chairs and a white bed, holding a pale patient. The strips of purple that snaked around her head were much lighter, her skin white with a tinge of brown. An oxygen mask was placed over her head, and a catheter connected to an IV drip was inserted into her exposed right hand, another catheter supplying blood inserted into the left. Jack did not study Sombra's face, opting for another period of rest as he sat down on one of the three plastic chairs available. Five minutes later, Jack was awoken by the clicking of the door and footsteps entering the room. Sergeant Williams sat down beside Jack with a sigh, the plastic chair creaking and bending under his weight.   
“Where's Thompson?”  
“He's tending to the men. Should be coming later.”  
“Mhm. How did the raid go?”  
“According to logistics, we brought back twenty kilograms of metal, one kilograms of precious metals and three hundred grams of gold and silver.”  
Jack whistled.  
“That's a lot of money.”  
“Yup. How's our civilian?”  
“Not so good.”  
Sergeant Williams glanced at Sombra and gave a brief nod, his eyes slightly burdened by an extra baggage of worry.   
“She'll be fine; Why are you so worried about a civilian anyway?”   
Williams didn't answer, instead choosing to take out his holopad and inform Lieutenant Thompson of his current location. Jack didn't press the matter; he had other things to attend to. The two men silently stepped out of the room, each going their separate ways.

Angela sat beside her first patient in the dark, the only source of light in the room being the moonlight, the luminous lines and numbers imprinted on multiple screens, and of course the purplish glow from the lady with the implants on her head and neck. Angela yawned as she relaxed into the chair, closing her eyes. She didn't know why she would even rest here instead of her comfortable bed, but apparently years of medical training and practice made her feel more at home when sleeping beside a patient. She had finished everything she needed to complete; Now she just needed to sleep-  
Coughing.  
Angela's eyes shot open.  
More coughing. Then choking.  
Angela sprang out of her seat, skidding across the tiled floor as she rushed towards her patient. She gently and swiftly helped her to sit up, and offered a glass of water when the choking subsided. The lady drank meekly and slowly; It offered Angela a chance to see her features. She looked around the age of twenty four, her face a little sharp and thin, possibly from malnutrition. Her eyes glinted purple, an odd rarity. Her eyebrows each had a gap separating the tip and the main body, and her hair was dyed purple, fading to a lighter color at the tips. After finishing the glass of water, the lady gently placed the glass back onto the nightstand beside the pitcher, and her lips struggled to form words. Her purple lips moved and twitched, and her mouth finally managed to sound out coherent words. Her voice was soft, with a mexican accent, containing a tinge of subconscious arrogance. However, her soft expression had nothing to do with her pride, just the lack of it.  
“Thank..you.”  
Angela smiled reassuringly, her eyes warm and bright. Her blond hair seemed to glow as the moonlight reflected her kind face.  
“You're welcome.”  
The woman seemed to blush, holding her hands closely to her chest. “What's your name?”  
“Angela Ziegler. Nice to meet you...um…”  
“Sombra. It's...Sombra.”  
They shook hands; Sombra's was weak and her hand seemed to barely hold onto Angela's for support. Sombra gave a slight smirk and grimaced as she shifted in her bed. She then seemed to remember something, and pulled back her hand, scrutinizing it.  
“The hole...it's all gone.”  
Angela nodded.  
“Our surgeon patched it up. From what I heard, it apparently cost them some gold and silver.”  
“The wonders of modern medicine. Don't you say that sometimes?”  
Angela chuckled softly, the notion of Sombra somehow knowing her habits ignored. Sombra smirked and closed her eyes, the faintest hint of brown present on her skin. Angela's hand slowly reached out to Sombra's forehead, and she began stroking. Sombra purred contentedly, and Angela tilted her head forward, glad that she had chosen to stay in the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Jack was still up late filling out paperwork, Thompson by his side.  
“We need to have an overhaul of the fucking administrative department.”  
“That, or just buy stamps with our signatures and particulars.”  
Jack stamped a paper concerning an Aleksandra Zaryanova, clearing her for entrance to Overwatch before answering. He didn't really care about scrutinizing applicants; with such a manpower shortage, as long as his recruiting teams gave her the green light, she was in.  
“We already have those. I meant the descriptions and other useless statistics. We need a more dedicated paperwork department.”  
Thompson nodded in agreement. Jack scribbled on, the snow outside like a white thick blanket covering the land. Jack pulled out the purple drive yet again; He didn't have the faintest idea of unplugging it from the computer. Thompson noticed the small object, his eyes flickering to the device and then back to the paper. He raised a stamp and pressed it onto the paper, the stamp clicking as it imprinted the icon of Overwatch onto the form.  
“The civilian we rescued today gave me this. It contained files on Talon.”  
“Really?”  
“Yes. But why do the Omnics have Intel on Talon? Or is she a Talon agent?”  
Thompson shrugged as he crossed and signed another form, the black pen running out of ink.  
“Maybe the Omnics have a secret alliance with Talon. Or maybe they're attacking.”  
Jack held the drive up to the light, the metal glinting under the lamp.  
“Well, whatever it is, I need some sleep. You should retire too. Good night.”  
Jack exited the room, his mind plagued with fatigue and his arms weighed down with the day's experiences. As he stepped into his bedroom after a shower and a glass of whiskey, the built-in holoscreen near the bed bleeped consistently, displaying the words   
'Unknown Caller; Voice call.’  
Jack tapped the screen, accepting the call. He cleared his throat and gulped down a cup of water, hoping that his voice was still acceptably intimidating. He expected almost anything; Except for the robotic screech that resembled a voice that chilled him to the core. He instinctively took a step back, nervously glancing behind him for any unwelcome Intruders. He remained silent, hoping that the caller would hang up, but it didn't. It's voice was like metal upon metal, the bending and screeching of lifeless machines, devoid of humanity and compassion. This was no voice scrambler.  
“Jack Morrison. How many times must I repeat your name? Answer me now.”  
Jack swallowed a gulp of raw fear, and cleared his throat once more.  
“Jack Morrison, head of Overwatch. Identify yourself.”  
“You may call me the Overlord. You have the girl. Give her to us.”  
Jack paused for a few seconds before answering, the cogs in his head slowly turning before coming to a plausible answer. His mouth opened but no sound came out. He coughed before trying to answer again, his throat muscles constricting against one another.  
“You...mean Sombra?”  
“Yes. The traitor. Bring her to us, and Overwatch will be spared the worst of the omnics.”  
“What do we get?”  
Jack was a negotiator; Someone who wouldn't let go until he was certain he had gotten a good slice of the pie. He knew whoever this Sombra was, she either presented a serious threat, or was an agent of the omnics. Point was, she was important to them.   
“A peace treaty for four years. We will not attack anyone. We will repair what we have destroyed. We will reduce our military. We can give you some of our bases.”  
Now Jack knew this was too good to be true; Or was Sombra really that valuable? He flipped through the the deal carefully, spotting a few loopholes but no actual threats that would unravel the treaty. The Omnics were serious. Just what the fuck did Sombra do to incur the wrath of the Omnics?  
“All...just for Sombra? What did she do?”  
The blue screen suddenly glitched red, and Jack could sense something ominous coming from the other side. He raised his arm up in defense, prepared for an unknown enemy to strike forth from the screen. Instead of a physical object, Jack met a screeching voice, the loud sound resembling metal groaning and twisting.  
“This is none of your business! Just bring her to us!”  
The voice snapped back with something described as extreme anger, one that made evil and death emanate out of the holoscreen, the edges of the screen seemingly turning black. And in just a split second, the voice settled down from a raging thunderstorm to a calm sea.  
“Do you agree, Jack?”  
Jack Morrison found himself on the floor, his arms shaking as he picked himself up.  
“I...Let me consider it.”  
“Fine. You have three days. Seventy two hours. Here is the location. I hope you will make the right choice.”  
Jack jolted and turned around as the printer behind suddenly clattered to life, spurting out a single sheet of paper containing an address to a location somewhere near King's Row. The letters and numbers seemed to look like dark red instead of black for a moment, and Jack shivered.  
“And one more thing, Sombra may or may not be a Talon agent. Whatever you will do with her, I wish you the best of luck.”  
The connection then abruptly ended, leaving a shaken Jack sitting on the edge of the warm, soft bed. Jack reached for the holoscreen once again, hesitating as though the darkness still lurked within the device. His finger started swiping of its own accord, not responding to its owner's commands. At last, the face of Doctor Angela blinked in front of him before disappearing as Jack switched off the holoscreen. He rose up unsteadily, needing another bottle of whiskey before sleep. He would contact Angela tomorrow.


	7. Chapter 7

Angela was by Sombra's side, preparing another dose of painkillers for her injuries. Sombra avoided Angela's kind gaze, traces of guilt lining her face. Angela glanced quizzically at her before pushing the plunger down and reapplying the gauze. She then meticulously put the tools back onto the tray, and placed it gently onto the counter in the far side of the room. Sombra glanced at Angela not more than eleven times, each time averting her gaze almost instantly. Angela noticed the odd behavior and walked towards Sombra, her concern for her patient highly noticeable.   
“Are you alright? You look rather tired.”  
Upon hearing her voice, Sombra unclenched her fists, and she seemed to visibly relax, despite the resigned sigh slipping past her lips. Angela sat next to Sombra, kindness evident in her expression.  
“Is there anything you would like to say, if you're comfortable with it?”  
Sombra shook her head, her eyes blinking.   
“Would you like a shoulder?”  
Angela leaned towards Sombra, the latter's head resting upon her shoulder as the soft purple hair covered one of two crying eyes. Angela stroked Sombra's back as she cried silently, politely averting her gaze as she hugged Sombra. They stayed locked in this position, despite Angela's holoscreen beeping incessantly. The two finally separated, Sombra's red eyes filled with gratitude. Her words were exposed and soft, full of vulnerability.  
“Thank you.”  
Angela softly kissed her forehead, holding her hand as she softly sang songs that her mother did back when she felt alone, a speck of dust trapped in the pitch black void of the uncaring, cruel world. Her soothing voice helped Sombra transition into a dreamless slumber, her tears replaced by Angela's as repressed memories bubbled up from a sea of darkness. The two women cried themselves to sleep, two tiny specks in the dark, sterile, cold room.


	8. Chapter 8

Angela blinked wearily as she swept the gunk from her eyes, her lab coat soaked with tears, sweat and a little bit of saliva. She slowly eased herself out of Sombra's death grip, stumbling to the desk and gulping down a glass of cold water, inhaling a deep breath of stale air to try and stimulate her exhausted brain. After her vision has cleared and the ringing in her ears had subsided, Angela turned around to see Sombra yawning and stretching, her purple eyes blinking in the mild sunlight as her lips struggled to form a shape. Angela took a few steps towards Sombra before her holoscreen beeped, the device glowing with Jack's number. As Angela exited the room, she swore she heard a sigh of relief.   
“Angela. Where are you now?”  
Angela frowned, the slightest touch of worry creasing her face. Jack's tone was one of uncertainty, laced with potent fear. The remnants of her tiredness was instantly washed away by a rising tide of adrenaline, powering her muscles.  
“Room 301, with Sombra.”  
“Right. I'm on my way there right now. Make sure Sombra does not leave the room. You know what, make sure she doesn't do anything! Do you understand?”  
Angela's frown deepened as she glanced warily at the weak patient in her bed, her eyebrows furrowed.  
“...yes.”  
Angela stepped back into the room, and the sight of Sombra's tired smile made the lump in her throat grow twice in size. She wordlessly headed towards Sombra and firmly grabbed her left arm, pressing it down to the side of the bed as she fiddled with the control panel. Metal clasps then extended out of the metal frame and wrapped themselves around Sombra's left arm, effectively immobilizing it. Angela then wordlessly did the same for the other hand, her face an expressionless mask. Sombra glanced up at Angela, a faint look of understanding cracking her mask. Her voice was soft and hoarse, her throat straining to say the words.  
“I...don't blame you.”  
Angela turned away from Sombra just as Jack walked in, carefully closing the door behind him. Sombra sank deeper into the soft pillows, trying to avoid Jack's stern gaze. Angela slowly stepped between the two, her face filled with uncertainty. Before she could speak another word, the door opened again to accommodate two armed soldiers holding laser rifles, their faces covered with impassive black masks, their visors reflecting Sombra's and Angela's pale faces. With a single nod, they flanked Sombra while Jack deactivated the restraints. Before Angela could process what was happening, Sombra was off her feet and out the door, her unsteady legs trembling with each step. Words scraped through her throat, her mouth a desert devoid of moisture.   
“Where...are you...taking her?”  
“IO one.”  
Interrogation office one? Angela raised an arm to block Jack from leaving the room, an angry stare aimed straight into his eyes. An unknown rage had filled her heart, and her arm shook the slightest.  
“This does not concern you, Mercy.”  
“It damn does when you take my patient away to be beaten and broken.”  
“We'll just have a nice chat and-”  
“Can it, Morrison. I've seen you 'have a nice chat’ with someone, and I lost my lunch, dinner and appetite for two days. Promise me you'll just talk. No hitting. Promise me this.”  
Jack leaned in, concealing the surprise at Angela's outburst.  
“I'll make no promises, but I give you my word she'll return with no broken bones and bullet holes.”  
“Fine. Now go.”  
Angela withdrew her arm, and Jack heard the door close firmly the instant he walked out. Angela pressed her back to the door, sinking to the floor as her legs stretched to the floor. She held her forehead and groaned, the nausea a familiar sensation. After ten minutes, she got up, walked to the sink and sipped her cold coffee as she sat down into a nearby chair.


	9. Chapter 9

Sombra sat in front of a steaming mug of coffee, pleasantly surprised at the vastly different treatment she had gotten when she had been publicly marched off to the 'interrogation room’. Jack Morrison sat opposite her, sliding her thumb drive towards the centre of the table.   
She took a sip of the warm coffee, her eyes scanning for any possible escape routes, her mind calculating every possible dialogue option and every response. The two sat in relative silence, Jack's eyes drilling into Sombra's. Sombra retaliated with a stony look, her emotions safe behind the sturdy bunker of nonchalance. She broke the silent air, firing the first shot.   
“So I'm guessing you want answers.”  
“I do. Where did you get this?”  
Sombra took a sip of the black coffee, the bitterness sharpening her mind. The battle was on.  
“From my employer. Surprised at the intel? You should be.”  
 _Oh, she wants to play. Then it's on._  
“Frankly, I'm not. We already have data on these spots in our database.”  
“Sure you do. But for the locations that you do have, are they reliable? You rescued me from a hidden compound that was seemingly invisible to your intel. My condolences to your fallen soldiers, by the way.”  
Jack suppressed his rage and looked her hard in the eye.  
“You can say whatever you want, but Overwatch has saved your life and fixed you up. Now, would you like to repay the favor, or would you like to be tried and jailed for being a suspected Talon agent?”  
“Suspected? I am a Talon agent.”  
Sombra cursed internally as sirens wailed in her head. Shit, that wasn't supposed to happen! She took a longer sip, nervously eyeing the volume of coffee in the cup. Three-quarters; good enough. Jack placed a hand on the table, seeming to rely on it for support. A full minute of uncomfortable silence dragged on before Jack licked his lips and opened his mouth.  
“So, what were you doing in the omnic facility? My sources do not know of any relations between Talon and the two.”  
Sombra shrugged and set down the cup.  
“I received orders to infiltrate the base and get some... documents. What I did not expect was them waiting for me the moment I stepped into the compound.”  
“Did you get the documents?”  
“...yes. They're in my coat, if you would like to know.”  
Jack pulled out a box from underneath the table, the clean plastic box, holding her belongings. Jack pushed the box to Sombra, the latter quickly searching through her long coat before fishing out a red drive.  
“This should be it. Consider it as a gift...to Overwatch.”  
She pressed the drive into Jack's palms, along with the purple one on the table.  
“All this data is yours, but on one condition.”  
Jack knew there was always a catch, and he couldn't help but feel a slight uneasiness as he began to speak.  
“Name your price.”  
Sombra took a long sip and a deep breath before responding.  
“I want Overwatch to hire me.”  
Another silence filled the room, Jack's mind temporarily crashing. Both of them clearly hadn't expected this. Jack cleared his throat and gripped the table, his knuckles turning white.  
“How...long? What are your terms?”  
Sombra blinked in mild surprise, the subject of their 'conversation’ quickly derailing. She decided to just lay bare her requests before something else cropped up.  
“Well, I want a minimum of five years under Overwatch. I guess I could work in your intel gathering department, or I could patch up your security systems. I want protection from Talon should they come after me, and of course a sizeable salary. The details could be ironed out later, but these are the basics.”  
“Of course. But please do tell me, why should Overwatch hire you when you're a Talon agent? And why should trust be placed in a person that willingly defects and throws away her loyalty just to save her skin?”  
Sombra felt blood rush through her face, the mildest twinge of guilt burning in her chest. She had to turn this around quickly and press on any advantages. She swallowed the thick phlegm down her throat with considerable difficulty, her tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth.  
“Well, you need me. I have more intel on the Omnics than your spies and analysts, I'm great with computers, and there's also the problem of your encrypted data.”  
Having managed to gather enough confidence, Sombra picked up the purple drive from Jack's hands and wagged it in his face. Jack pushed away from the table as Sombra clapped the device onto the table and sipped from the cup once more. Jack's tongue was dry as his mouth opened yet again.  
"If we accept you into Overwatch with your myriad talents, won't we be a nice target for your personal enemies?"  
"Now, I-"  
"Save it. I, we know you're going to draw more trouble to us, no matter what we do with you. I think that the safest course of action is to make sure you disappear entirely from this world. Your very presence is a threat to Overwatch."  
"I-I can make myself invisible! I've done it before!"  
"And how can you confirm that you can do it again? Can you elude everyone? Hell, if Talon comes for you, they're targeting us as well! How are you going to prevent that?!"  
"I…"  
Sombra felt tears of desperation gathering at the edges of her eyes, and breathed in, concealing the heaving of her chest from Jack.   
"If...I can survive this long with so many enemies, then I can obviously fly under the radar. I promise you, no one will detect me."  
Sombra's words were much softer, her voice cracked and trembling. Jack knew he had pushed too far. He refrained from pressing the subject, and chose to remain silent. A few minutes passed, allowing Sombra to regain the ruins of her former fortress of indifference, although she knew the battle was lost.  
Both of them were panicking internally, their hearts racing and brains overclocking. Neither of them knew if each planned to betray the other. Jack could just dispose of Sombra after getting the data needed, and Sombra could very well be a Talon spy, the drive containing useless information that would jeopardize the safety of Overwatch. Both were taking a huge gamble.  
Finally, Jack came to a single conclusion. Sombra finished the last of her coffee that she had been steadily draining, and the remnants of her indifference was crumbling into dust. Jack rested his elbows on the table, fingers curling around each other as he leaned forward to speak.   
“Under normal circumstances, I would have you shot immediately. You are too dangerous to be kept alive."  
Sombra's face paled a shade further.  
"However, I have decided on a compromise. You will have a probation period of one year, where you will be given limited access to the databases and our intel. Afterwards, if your performance is deemed satisfactory, you will then be formally accepted into Overwatch. If your performance is not sufficient, then you will be dealt with accordingly. In addition, you will be in every single mission that is in this drive. Is this clear?”  
Sombra bit her lip and glanced at Jack. She could tell this was the best she was going to get, and nodded her head.  
“Crystal."  
“Good.”  
Both of them stood up, looked each other in the eye and shook hands, both relieved that the situation was over. Jack managed tamper down a slight smile, securing it under his poker face as he said three words to Sombra, slipping her a plastic card as his lips moved.  
“Welcome to Overwatch.”


End file.
